Arthurs Day, 2011.

It is nothing but a clever (and no doubt expensive) marketing ploy, but we in the land of "Sod'em and Begorrah", as MrSmith so charmingly put it, need little excuse to down a few pints of Vitamin G.

And dress up like wimmin.

I must stress that I personally remained strictly within my predefined and solidly held-to gender boundries.
(A cross-processing photographer is one thing, a cross-dressing photographer entirely another, especially in small-town Catholic Ireland.)

My mates Stu and Eddie suffer no such restrictions.

They dressed, paradoxically crossly but yet in great humour, performed a bad ABBA/drag (Queen) tribute, then laughed their helium-filled latex titties off.

I think they want to break free......